


Brother

by crimsonepitaph



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x02, Gen, Reunions, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:31:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8339953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonepitaph/pseuds/crimsonepitaph
Summary: The moment in 12x02 when Sam is reunited with Dean. Sam POV.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is complete fiction. No profit is made. No harm is intended.
> 
> Author's note #1: I needed this after the episode. I needed more from that scene. A huge, huge thank you to borgmama1of5, who, despite dealing with personal stuff, beta-ed this (and in record time). ♥

Pain. Exhaustion.  
  
Sam wants it to be done.  
  
The door – that door opening again, it can’t bring anything good. His body tells him so, the feeling twisting his insides, the bile rising in his throat.  
  
Every new wound, burning. Carving new scars, one excruciating second at a time.  
  
Dully wondering what it’ll be this time.  
  
 _Where_.  
  
 _How._  
  
 _How long._  
  
How long will it hurt this time?  
  
How bad?  
  
Hell taught him the pointlessness of trying to be silently stoic while being sliced to pieces.  
  
Screaming – that’s good. That’s everything burning, ashes falling to the ground, and _screw you_ – that’s good, too, that feels like him, the version of him that he likes, scratching at the walls, begging to be heard.  
  
Huh. He’s hallucinating again. Didn’t realize she’d gotten into his mind again.  
  
 _Dean_.  
  
Dean, in flesh and blood.  
  
At least…they’re nice. They’re _good_. There’s something good in this. Dean. The moments. They're reprieves that bear the painful illusion of no consequences. Or – they _feel_ good.  
  
Sam remembers they _aren’t_.  
  
Dean isn’t.  
  
He isn’t here.  
  
Dean died saving the world.  
  
But he seems so real.  
  
He’s looking at Sam. Searching, scanning, assessing Sam’s damage with a quick glance before there’s metal hitting metal, the sound of a key scraping along.  
  
Then Dean’s cuffed, right there, next to him.  
  
It’s at that point that Sam begins to wonder if this isn’t a hallucination.  
  
A cold fear cuts through him.  
  
It can’t be real. Because this…this is the way they can break Sam. This is – this – he _can’t._  
  
He can’t see Dean die. Not again.  
  
“Sam,” Dean says, and –  
  
It’s real.  
  
It’s a question, it’s – worry. It’s _We’re getting out of here and I’m going to fix you up and we’re going to eat some goddamn pie_.  
  
It’s more than _she_ could ever understand. More than she could ever fabricate with a spell.  
  
It’s Dean, and that – that’s more than Sam can bear.  
  
But he has no more tears left to cry.


End file.
